A lesson with Sorelli
by Maze-zen
Summary: La Sorelli tells Christine about the birds and the bees while giving her pointers on how to act as Carmen. Takes place in between the events of Séguedilla, but can probably work as a stand alone. Christine/La Sorelli with a bit of smut talk. Rated M because I don't dare anything else.


A lesson with Sorelli

"So, sweetheart, let's talk." Sorelli cooed as Christine began separating the toes of the prima ballerina who had danced all her life. Her feet were crammed together after years in pointed shoes which made them difficult to paint. Sorelli had chosen a bright red nail polish that would've made most women look like harlots, but not her. Her boldness was one of the things Christine envied.

"While you haven't been taught anything about the intimate encounters between men and women, I suspect that you have heard quite a lot from the whispers in this place." Christine nodded. There was plenty of talk about those things and everyone had at one point happened upon a closet or storage room where a couple was in the act. But she wanted to know the specifics. Sorelli seemed to understand this.

"Intimacy is about pleasure. While it can lead to a child, pleasure is why we do it. Men are easy to please. Us women are often more difficult and a lot of men don't even bother. But you should never settle for that!"

"But surely the man I marry will want to please... me?" Christine whispered the last part and blushed profusely as she began painting each crooked nail delicately. Sorelli snorted in an obnoxious way.

"Hopefully! But you can never be sure. Especially rich, handsome men don't care. If the wife don't put out, they can always find a mistress." Sorelli smirked, making Christine suspect that the older woman had seen quite a few of those men. There was a reason that Sorelli always wore the most beautiful gowns and expensive jewelry; her wages couldn't pay for all that.

But the talk about handsome, rich men made Christine think about Raoul. Every girl at the opera swooned over him when he came to visit. If Christine married him, as he had insinuated that he wanted her to, he wouldn't have difficulty finding another woman if he wasn't satisfied with Christine.

"We women have something, men want: Our bodies. It makes us powerful which they don't like. Carmen is a perfect proof of that." Sorelli gushed on.

"But she ended up dying after exploiting Don José." Christine pointed out, but the older woman just huffed.

"And who wrote the opera? A man! They will do anything to keep us down. That's why they try to convince us that women need to be pure before marriage. No one cares if a man tests the waters before marriage. Then why shouldn't we?" Sorelli's words began to make a lot of sense to Christine. Perhaps she should follow the passion that crept up under her skin at times where she came near Raoul or even Erik. But she had no idea how to go about it.

"I don't really know anything about pleasing a man. Nor how to…" please myself, she wanted to say, but she couldn't bear to say the words. Sorelli once again seemed like she already knew what she meant.

"Then let's start at the basics: You know that the flower between your legs has an opening?" Christine turned crimson, but nodded in response. "Well, men want to penetrate you there with their manhood. It becomes hard as steel when they're aroused. It's actually quite fascinating." Sorelli was completely nonchalant about the subject while Christine tried very hard to concentrate on painting each nail to perfection. "Don't worry, you expand too if they manage to arouse you." Sorelli waved her hand in the sit. "Now, this act is what people use to procreate and it can definitely be exceptional when done right. But there are other ways to be intimate that will keep you pure and garantee no pregnancy."

"Which ways?" Christine asked embarrassed, but curious. This sounded quite useful.

Sorelli hummed. "You can use just about everything on a man. They will want to stick it everywhere they can: Your mouth or your bottom. They also like it when you use your hands and some even like feet." Christine felt her eyes widen. Her bottom? "Of course when it comes to pleasuring you, their hands or mouth can be _very_ useful if they take their time."

Christine sat straight up when she'd finished painting the last nail. She felt a bit warm and Sorelli's talk wasn't helping. "Are you alright, dear?" Christine nodded and tried to stand up from the little stool, but staggered when she rose too quickly. Sorelli hurried to her feet and caught Christine in her arms.

"Easy, darling girl." She cooed softly into Christine's ear. "It's okay. I know it can be overwhelming." Christine shivered as Sorelli's warm breath teased her ear. "How about I show you how I would do Carmen?"

To be perfectly honest Christine had forgotten about the reason for being there, so she agreed quickly to hide this fact. Sorelli led her to sit down on the divan, then strutted to the other side of the dressing room. "Carmen will have hips that bounce from side to side as she walks." She began walking slowly forward, lifting her skirt a bit to show how her hips moved tantalizingly. "Her body rocks to the music. I've watched you, Christine, you're made of music; let Carmen's songs guide your movements."

When the prima ballerina reached the divan, she touched Christine's shoulder lightly and walked around the divan while keeping her touch on the innocent soprano who watched in cautious fascination. Sorelli leaned down and whispered into her ear: "Is there anyone you would like to seduce, Christine? Anyone you would like to have power over?"

While the words should've made her think about Raoul, it wasn't the handsome boy that came to mind; instead she saw Erik clear as day when her eyes slipped shut and she let Sorelli's words in. She wanted to know if Erik wanted her, if she could hold such a power over him. God knows, he already had so much power over her.

Without realizing it, she had begun to sway along with Sorelli whose hands feathered up and down Christine's arms. Goosebumps rose all over her skin and she imagined those hands being, stronger, longer and spidery. As soon as she had gotten used to it, the hands stopped and Sorelli walked back around the divan to stand in front of Christine.

"Switch with me," she ordered. When Christine looked up, she saw the stern look in Sorelli's eyes and scrambled to her feet. The other woman sat down and gripped Christine's hips to position her with Sorelli's thighs between her spread legs. "Sit down, slowly while swaying your hips." Christine felt self conscious and struggled to make herself move, but then she heard Sorelli's voice turn soft. "Close your eyes, sweetheart and imagine I'm _him._" she said in a low voice.

Christine's eyes slipped shut. This time she lowered herself onto the thighs beneath her. Strong, slim thighs with powerful muscles. If not for the skirt, she would be able to imagine that it was _his _thighs that she was sitting on.

"Lean forward and stroke my neck, sweet girl," the soft voice whispered and Christine did it without opening her eyes. She leaned against the slim body and let her finger tips ghost over thin skin on the neck. She felt a strong pulse, pounding away under her fingers. Her face was close to a warm breath that smelled of honey and suddenly soft lips touched hers.

This was nothing like the kisses she'd had with Raoul; this was much more. The lips moved with hers and a tongue licked at the seams of her mouth. Hands came up behind her and lightly stroked her back. She slipped her own tongue out to feel the connection and soon their tongues caressed each other. Sounds and words left her when hands moved over her ribs and over her breasts until she arched into them. Warm liquid seemed to pool between her legs and she moved her hips in an attempt to feel something more.

"Sorry, darling girl." Sorelli whispered softly as their lips parted. "I'm not what you're looking for." Christine opened her eyes to stare in confusion. Sorelli's hand trailed down her stomach and between her legs to press where she felt wet and Christine gasped loudly. "I _could_ help you with this, but I don't do girls. And I think you need a man. Perhaps this Erik?"

Sorelli pushed her gently to the side as Christine was gripped with panic. She had said his name while kissing Sorelli? The heat of her skin turned into a deep blush of embarrassment.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Sorelli smiled gently as she rose and put on her day shoes. "Follow that feeling and you will be a great Carmen." The prima ballerina grabbed her cloak and her bag and slipped out the door with a "ta ta", leaving Christine completely dumbstruck on the small divan.


End file.
